The Birthday Fairy
by bleedforyou
Summary: Harry can't believe that Draco forgot his birthday... Fluff. One-shot. Slash. Harry/Draco. Written for HP's birthday!


**Title:** The Birthday Fairy  
**Author:** bleedforyou  
**Characters:** Harry/Draco  
**Word count:** 1,575  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Warning(s):** None. Except excessive fluff, of course.  
**Disclaimer:** It's all J.K.'s. Happy birthday to her, as well!  
**Author's note: **Um... I kinda wrote this in a hurry, so ignore the mistakes, yeah?  
**Summary:** Harry can't believe that Draco would forget his birthday. 

The Birthday Fairy

"Hello? Is anyone there?" Harry was close to shouting as he spoke into the cell phone's receiver in his hand, yet no one was answering from the unknown number. "Hel_lo_?"

"Harry? Can you hear me?" He heard Draco's voice on the other line and he stopped shouting.

"Yeah, Draco, I can hear you. What's going on?"

"Oh, so I _did_ get it to work. You know, when you bought me this infernal device, the least you could've done is shown me how to _use_ it."

"Well, you were ranting about never needing it, so—"

"Yes, yes. I figured it out, of course. I'm not some simpleton."

"Plus it came with a handbook—"

"Stop talking, Potter. Now, why weren't you answering your floo? I had to resort to using this _thing_ to contact you," Draco whined.

"I'm not at the office right now, that's why I didn't answer the floo. I'm on a case at the moment—"

"Whatever. When are you coming home?"

"I told you this morning, remember? Seven?" Harry knelt down further, leaning against the dilapidated building. Ron was on the other side of the building, thank Merlin, or he'd have chewed him out for talking on the phone during a stakeout. "Look Draco, I'm somewhat busy—"

"Oh, too busy for your boyfriend, huh?" Draco was in a spectacular mood, apparently. "I just called to tell you that I won't be home when you get here."

"What? Why not?" Harry asked, a small crushed-feeling erupting in his chest. "Tonight is—"

"Friday, I know. We can move Friday Fantasy night to tomorrow."

Harry wasn't thinking about their weekly sexual adventures, however. He was thinking about the fact that he was turning 25 that night.

"…And I'll even let you whip me." Draco was still talking.

"Er, right. Where are you going?" _Without me_, Harry thought.

"Out. Pansy and Blaise invited me to dinner, and don't worry, I told them you couldn't make it. I know how you hate hanging around with them."

"It's okay—"

"No, really. Don't worry about it, baby. I'll make it back late though, you know how we get when we're chatting away. I was just telling you not to wait up for me, yeah?"

"Right. Okay, then. I guess… have fun?"

"Thanks, darling. Love you!"

The dial tone on the cell phone reverberated in Harry's mind. He couldn't believe Draco forgot his birthday—over the last three years, they had always spent his birthday night together. Last year, in fact, Draco had surprised him with dinner in Paris and they had shacked up in a hotel for the rest of the weekend…

"Harry! I found an alternate opening, come on!" Ron was whispering from around the corner of the building.

Harry nodded and stood up, being careful to keep his head down below the windows. It wouldn't do to dwell on his hurt at the moment.

By the time Harry got back to the flat that he and Draco shared, he was still scowling. He told himself that it wasn't a big deal—it was just a birthday. It's not like Draco loved him any less.

He unlocked the door and stepped in, about to wipe the soles of his shoes against the welcome mat. Draco hated dirt and grime around the house. Then, with a childlike vindictive urge, Harry didn't wipe his shoes at all. He trailed around the house with his dirty shoes, sure to muck up the white, plush carpet with dirt from his earlier stakeout.

_Ha. That's what you get for forgetting me, _Harry thought immaturely.

He immediately smacked himself in the forehead for being an idiot and went into the kitchen for a glass of water. The inner child in him still didn't allow him to clean the mess he made.

Walking towards the fridge, his scowl deepened when he saw the picture that was taped to the fridge door. It was a picture of himself and Draco from two years ago, taken by Hermione at his 23rd birthday party. Sure, Harry was drunk off his arse, but he was still grinning from ear to ear as Draco fed him a piece of cake.

"Stupid cake. Who needs you? I don't."

He was surprised his friends didn't invite themselves over as well—usually they would've simply walked right in and insisted on throwing him a birthday bash, filled with booze and loud music.

But no, the unusual silence of the flat still rang around him.

_You know what? I'll have my own birthday. Like I did when I was a kid_, Harry thought to himself. He pulled out a box of frozen pancakes and the bottle of butterbeer from under the sink.

Placing each pancake one over the other, he balanced a few on a plate and warmed them up. Then, he proceeded to sit at the small dining table and light a few candles that Draco used for romantic dinners with Harry.

Images of himself at age 10, kneeling next to his bed in the cupboard under the stairs at the Dursley's house washed through his mind. He had used his bed as a table and placed cookies down in order to properly blow out his candle. Earlier in the day, he had taken one of Dudley's old birthday candles and a matchbox from Aunt Petunia's kitchen drawer. He lit the candle and wished himself a happy birthday, imagining people singing and clapping all around him.

_Merlin, tell me I am NOT tearing up_, Harry thought miserably as a single tear fell onto his pancakes.

"Happy birthday, Harry," he said amidst the silence, carefully blowing out all the candles and digging into his breakfast/dinner.

Five minutes later, he heard a large _thump _coming from his bedroom. He stood up in alarm, causing his chair to wobble and fall backward. Ignoring this, Harry pulled his wand from his sleeve and slowly made his way towards his bedroom.

It was impossible to Apparate into his flat, unless the wards recognized either Harry or Draco—in which case, Draco wouldn't have simply Apparated straight to the bedroom, would he?

Harry leaned against the door, but couldn't hear much else. Slowly turning the knob, he took a deep breath and opened the door, a spell already on his lips.

"Oh!" A voice rang out in the darkness of the room and Harry fumbled for the lights. The spell had hit the wall apparently. "Be thankful you missed, Potter. Otherwise—"

"Draco?" Harry said, flicking on the lights.

He let out a gasp and blinked owlishly.

"Fuck," he whispered.

"Yeah, that was kind of the point, idiot."

"I… _fuck_," Harry swore again. He couldn't help it, what with the image of…this.

In the middle of their large bedroom was a huge birthday cake with bright white icing. It was real too—he could smell the sugary goodness from where he stood.

The best part was, in the middle of the flat cake sat Draco-covered head to toe in nothing but white icing. Every inch of his favourite body in the world was layered by thick, creamy vanilla icing. Harry felt his mouth watering and jeans tightening at the same time.

"What—I… you're-" Harry stammered, unable to take his eyes off the sight.

"Stop stuttering! You know I've been waiting for two hours for you? Two _fucking _hours? You said seven!" Draco shouted, crossing his arms. "It's nine!"

"Well, you said you weren't going to be home, so I stopped for a drink at the Leaky Cauldron!"

"Drink at the Leaky Cauldron? What the hell, Potter? You know I would never forget your damn birthday!"

"You said—I thought—"

And suddenly he felt very stupid. Of _course_ Draco wouldn't have forgotten his birthday. This was _Draco_. He was so anal; he remembered the dates on which they first held hands, their first kiss… Why would he have forgotten Harry's birthday? Draco _loved_ Harry.

"Well? Are you just going to stand there and grin like an idiot or you going to enjoy your long-awaited birthday present?"

"Yes. I mean no—ah hell."

He took off his shoes before running and jumping onto Draco, who yelped in surprise.

"Harry!"

"This is my favourite birthday," he whispered into his boyfriend's ear, licking a stripe of icing off his neck.

"That's what you said last year. Oh, and the year before that."

"Apparently every birthday with you will just get better and better."

"You're so cheesy," Draco drawled, but Harry noticed the content smile on his face.

"Says the man who sat in a birthday cake for me."

"For two hours. Don't forget that part."

"Oh yes, how can I thank you, Draco?"

"Mm," Draco hummed. "Keep licking."

"Like this?" Harry smirked, running his tongue down Draco's chest.

"Perfect. Happy birthday, Harry."

"Why thank you, love."

Next day…

"Harry, why the hell are there dirty footprints all over my floor?"

"Ah… why don't you come back to bed, Draco?"

"Oh no. None of that until you clean this mess up!"

"Come on, it's my birthday!"

"Not anymore. That was yesterday."

"Technically, since you ignored the rest of the day and only celebrated at night with me, then I get a few default hours of the next day."

"Really? And who are you, the birthday fairy?"

"Do I _look_ like the birthday fairy?"

"Well… add some wings and a bit of glitter—"

"Draco!"

**A/N: **Feedback is love, my dears.

Happy birthday to my favorite gryffindor! *snuggles him*


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